


no one knows (if you don’t say the words)

by words_unravel



Series: the one where they're all at uni (and in love) [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Cabin Fic, M/M, Skiing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-31
Updated: 2012-12-31
Packaged: 2017-11-23 03:34:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/617611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/words_unravel/pseuds/words_unravel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis wants one last winter holiday with the boys and Zayn's never been one to tell him no.</p>
            </blockquote>





	no one knows (if you don’t say the words)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cantgetnoworse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cantgetnoworse/gifts).



> My recipient expressed a love for Louis/Zayn, college AUs, and best friends with feelings – apparently I tried to fit ALL of that into this fic. <3 A million thanks to my betas, and for all their hard work. Any mistakes remaining are mine and mine alone. 
> 
> standard disclaimer applies.

* * *

Louis insists that they take the trip. 

“It’s my last holiday before I graduate and have to join the real world, Zayn.” The look on Louis’s face at the words _real world_ is so blatantly disgusted that Zayn can’t help but smile. “We’ll grab Haz and Niall–” He snaps his fingers and Zayn knows he’s about to mention Liam. “–and Hazza’s latest project,” he finishes with a wide grin. 

Zayn does his best not to scowl. Harry’d found Liam one evening at a piano in one of the rehearsal rooms in the music building, crooning Sinatra like it was the greatest thing on earth, and had basically forced him into being friends with their group. It’s not like Zayn doesn’t like Liam – he _does_ – they have a million things in common. But their group is a touchy-feely lot, something that took Zayn himself a while to get used to, and he can understand the overwhelmed look that he still catches every so often on Liam’s face. 

The thing is that Liam is very… proper, for the lack of a better word. He doesn’t drink, he doesn’t smoke. When they were doing silly, stupid stuff, he always looked a bit disapproving. All these things were a personal challenge to Louis’s entire existence, of course, and he’d accepted that challenge with fervor. For a while, Zayn often wondered whether Liam was going to stick around or run as far and as fast as possible. 

But then Liam had broken up with his girlfriend of two years a couple of weeks ago and while the rest of them were all awkward shoulder pats and _shit luck, man_ ’s, Louis’d been dragging Liam out. Bike rides and coffee, bungee jumping and clubs. Louis is the one that got Liam tipsy for the first time a few nights ago, and Zayn had to watch while they both sat there and giggled into each other’s necks all night. 

Zayn wants to hate Liam a little–just a tiny bit, that’s all he’s asking. Except last night, he and Harry had been there when Liam saw the picture on Facebook of Danielle with someone new. Zayn can’t bring himself to hate anyone who looked that sad. 

“I think you’ve known him long enough that you can quit calling him Harry’s new project,” is all Zayn says. Louis just grins, all teeth, and Zayn sighs. 

 

It takes a bit to get everything together, finals and schedules, reservations and transport figured out. It’s worth it though, when Zayn steps out of the van to air that’s cold and sharp, a million tiny snowflakes swirling around him. 

He gets approximately two seconds to appreciate the beauty of it before there's an arm around his neck and Louis is there, tucked into his side. Against the stark white of their surroundings, his eyes are brilliant blue, the corners crinkling up when he breaks into a wide smile. 

"Kind of perfect, yeah?" he murmurs. Zayn nods and they stand there, grinning like idiots at each other. Then the hushed silence is broken with a yell as Niall hops on Harry's back without warning and it sends the two of them off the pavement. Harry's startled shout is cut off as they both land in a nearby snow bank. 

It _is_ kind of perfect, Zayn thinks, watching Niall shove snow down the back of Harry’s jeans, watching Louis fold in half with laughter. 

 

They head to the rental shop immediately after dropping off their luggage at their cabin. There’s a short argument when Harry goes to pay for the kit – Louis _hates_ owing Harry – but he gives in like always. He gives in, yes, but scowls all the way up the ski lift. The earlier good humor returns only when they’re on the edge of the precipice, skis on the verge of tipping down the mountain. 

Zayn's kind of pants at skiing, but there's Harry and Niall's laughter ringing out across the snow and Louis is always there to pull him up, dust off the snow, and tell him, "Back on the horse, Malik," before taking off again. 

The whole holiday is actually going brilliantly, up until the point where they're all tumbling through the door of the cabin and there's a new suitcase sitting next to the sofa. Then, he remembers it isn’t just the four of them.

"Liam's finally here!" Louis shouts, Harry and Niall's enthusiastic exclamations following right behind. Liam looks a little tentative as he comes out of the kitchenette, like he's still not sure he's supposed to be there with them, but Zayn can see how pleased he is at the greeting. It makes Zayn feel a bit shit for not having shouted his own welcome. He actually _does_ like Liam and he deserves this holiday just as much as the rest of them. To be honest, probably more so. 

Walking past Liam, Zayn puts a hand on his shoulder. "Glad you're here, Li." The smile on Liam's face gets wider, his eyes warmer. 

Of course, Louis chooses that moment to pinch Liam's nipple. "You're late!"

"Sorry, sorry, you know how it is with work–" 

Of course, Louis goes in for another pinch like Liam hasn’t spoken. Liam blocks him this time, grabbing Louis's hand before it connects. He keeps a hold of it and looks so inordinately proud of himself that Zayn can't help but laugh when Louis just reaches over with his other hand. 

 

They get the room situation sorted: Harry and Niall take one and Louis and Zayn another, leaving Liam the single. "Harry snores," Zayn explains. "And Niall's the only one of us that can sleep through it." 

Liam just nods, distracted. Niall’s on the sofa, tuning the guitar that he’s never far from and it’s not long before Liam’s sat by him. Zayn flops into a nearby recliner, listening with half an ear to their conversation. It’s the visual contrast though, Niall’s blond head next to Liam’s darker one, that keeps his focus. His fingers itch to draw, but he’s too lazy to go grab his sketchpad so he just sits there and watches.

When the sun goes down, Harry tries to get the fire started but after the third failed attempt, Liam politely intercedes. Within minutes he’s got a warm blaze going; they all cheer, which makes him blush. Louis can’t let that go, of course, and when Liam finally gets tired of the teasing, he actually sits on Louis. It makes him squawk in surprise and even Zayn can’t help laughing at the sight of Louis’s flailing arms underneath Liam. 

In the end, after they’ve raided Niall’s snack stash—too lazy to head down to the main lodge for dinner—they flop in various poses around the front room of the cabin, the fire burning low, glowing. Niall is on the floor, slumped back against Harry's knees. Zayn's made himself a nest in one corner of the sofa, curled under a blanket because he's always cold, no matter what. Louis, in typical Louis fashion, is taking up the most room. He's sprawled along the length of the sofa, head on Harry's shoulder and toes tucked under Zayn's thigh. 

"You're too far away," Louis whines at Liam. "Come have a snuggle." Zayn works very hard not to tense up at the invitation, but he doesn't have to worry. Liam just laughs from his chair a few feet away, primly says, "I'm perfectly comfortable where I am, thank you very much," and that's that.

 

When they stumble to bed hours later, Zayn’s exhausted. Yet, it’s only when Louis rolls over, flinging an arm across his stomach and snuffling into his shoulder, that Zayn finally falls asleep.

 

Of _course_ Liam snowboards, Zayn thinks, when they’re out on the mountain the next day. It’s payback for none of them wanting to go with Louis the day before when he’d asked. 

Louis, kitted out with a shiny new board, has never looked so excited about anything in his entire life, and when Liam turns to Zayn with, "I can show you the basics, yeah?" he says _okay_ like this isn't going to end in disaster. There must be something wrong with his brain. But Liam's face lights up and even though Zayn is going to regret this, it really _is_ hard to say no to that much sincere enthusiasm. 

This is all Harry’s fault, Zayn thinks, and one day, he’s going to slap Harry in the balls for it. For now, though, he’ll settle for hoping he doesn't look like a complete twat. 

 

Four hours later, Zayn gives up, for the sake of his pride and his body. 

He's lost track of how many times he's landed on his arse (or his face) and even Liam is looking a bit defeated. After the last time Liam pulls him upright, Zayn just shakes his head and says, "I don't think it's in the cards, Li."

That earns him a protest, but he just waves it off, reaching down to unsnap his boot locks. His legs feel like jelly and he's half afraid he's going to fall over again anyway. It’s a miracle that he manages to make it back to the rental shop to turn his board in without any further mishaps. His feet take him towards the lodge, where he catches a glimpse of Niall in the restaurant. Only when he sees him does Zayn realize that he's not really in the mood for talking. Instead, he forgoes lunch, heads back down to their cabin instead and ends up falling asleep on the sofa. 

He's startled awake by Louis and Liam's return, their laughter loud as they come through the cabin door. Both of them are bright-eyed, cheeks ruddy from the exercise and the cold. Zayn rolls over and pretends to go back to sleep until Louis sits on him, poking at his ribs until Zayn cracks. Ten minutes later, Zayn's got Louis's face pressed into the carpet as he digs his elbow into a kidney. Behind them, Liam's laughing so hard that Zayn thinks he might be crying.

It makes Zayn feel a little better. 

 

Niall's knee is acting up the next day and Zayn grabs at the out. Between the damage to his arse and his ego, he really doesn’t need any more mountain action.

“I’ll keep you company,” he says to Niall, hustling him out the door before Louis can stop them. 

Being away from the Louis and Liam dream team means they spend most of their day up at the main lodge where, somehow, Niall has managed to completely charm the pants off the restaurant staff. They two of them have barely settled into a table before half a dozen plates appear on their table. Niall looks absolutely delighted, and Zayn has to press his lips together to keep from laughing when the waitress turns bright pink from Niall's enthusiastic thanks. 

Before he can tease however, another girl walks up. She's dark haired and pretty, smiling at Niall and asking about their stay. Niall says, "Thanks, Amy," before she walks away and Zayn can't help smirking. 

"Been making friends, have we?" Niall shrugs, digging in to his food. 

"She's pretty great, mate. Got a fantastic laugh." Zayn raises an eyebrow and then makes kissy faces at him across the table. Niall looks back at him, unimpressed. 

Then he says, "At least I'm not a mopey wanker, jealous of Liam, and avoiding Louis because I'm in love with him, yeah?" and Zayn chokes on air. Niall just goes on. "You should just tell him, get it out in the open." 

Zayn shakes his head at that, blurts out, "I think he likes Liam," before he can stop himself. It feels kind of nice to talk about this with someone, even if Niall is looking at him strangely. 

Zayn hurries on, "Besides, I'm not into blokes?" That sounds more like he's asking and Zayn wants to take it back immediately. 

Niall snorts.

“What?” Zayn frowns. 

"You hold hands all the time. Last week I came in and the two of you were cuddling on the couch, asleep." Zayn opens his mouth to protest; he's known Louis since he was _seven_ , but then Niall continues with "It's not much further to just stick your hands down his trousers, is it?" 

Zayn can’t seem to form words at that, staring at Niall, as he gets a thoughtful look on his face. It doesn't bode well, Zayn thinks and the next words out of Niall’s mouth confirm it. "I guess if you wanted to test the waters, see about this whole blokes thing, you could ask Haz for a snog, yeah? 

"Harry?" Zayn sputters. "Why Harry?"

He shrugs. "You know Haz. He likes people, doesn't like to worry about what they're packing in their trousers. So to speak." Niall grins. "And he's always up for helping a friend out, you know that."

"I'm not quite sure this is something you really ask of your friends," Zayn retorts. It's true, Harry's into feeling good and connecting, but still, Zayn would really like to climb into a hole right now and never climb out.

"He's good at casual and he's friends with all his exes," Niall offers. "You'd go into it knowing that he's helping a friend out and he wouldn't let you make it awkward after. You should consider it."

Zayn feels like his face is on fire. "I refuse to talk about this any further," he mumbles. With a shrug, Niall digs into his breakfast, and after a moment, Zayn does the same. 

 

Harry returns from wherever he'd disappeared off to after the first day, a flush to his cheeks that Zayn knows isn’t from outdoor activities. He refuses to say anything though. Instead, he flings an arm around Zayn’s shoulders and grins, like he knows exactly what Zayn and Niall were discussing earlier. 

It's horrible. Zayn enjoys spending time with Harry, but he keeps catching himself staring, Niall's words echoing in his head. 

The thought _I wonder what you look naked_ doesn’t usually sit anywhere near _Harry_ in his mind. It’s distracting, all through several rounds of snooker – Harry’s arse as he leans over the table, the way his hands hold the cue – and drinks at the bar. Then they notice that there’s karaoke; tipsy as they are, there’s not much Harry needs to do to convince Zayn and Niall to get on the little stage. They’ve made it through two songs when Liam and Louis show up. 

And _of course_ , Liam can sing. 

He works his way smoothly through _Black and Gold_ before Harry joins him up on the tiny stage and they cover some old song that Zayn's certain was written before his parents were born. 

They sound bloody brilliant together. It makes Zayn wants to scream, or maybe just pack it in, go to bed right now though it’s only half past eight. 

Only he’s still got most of a pint in front of him, and then Liam turns to him, and says, “how do you feel about Usher.” Zayn wants to say no, but… Usher. They stumble through the first part a little, but by the end, Zayn can’t help grinning. They sound _good_.

They’re greeted by more-than-polite applause and Zayn can hear Niall and Harry whistling. An arm goes around his shoulder and Zayn looks over at Liam. “I think we’re a hit,” he laughs. 

Zayn stumbles a little when Liam tugs them off the stage and wraps an arm around Liam’s waist to steady himself. Liam keeps giggling, high from performing, and the sound makes Zayn laugh too. They probably look like idiots, Zayn thinks as they reach their table. Glancing up, he finds Louis watching him with a strange look on his face. 

When Zayn tilts his head, questioning, Louis just smiles and turns to poke Niall about doing _Love Shack_. 

 

The cabin is empty when Zayn wakes up the next morning. He knows that Louis and Liam were headed out on their boards again today. Their gear is gone which means that Louis must have packed the two of them up, bright and early. He figures that Harry and Niall are up at the main lodge again, but Zayn can’t make himself trudge his way up there to join them. 

Louis and Liam come back for lunch, happy and cold and bright enough that it makes Zayn grind his teeth.   
The cabin is painfully quiet when they leave, Zayn refusing Liam’s invitation to join them. 

Niall calls, just as Zayn’s contemplating going to bed and not getting back up again until they’re ready to go back to uni.

“Get your arse over here!” he shouts down the line. Zayn can hear the steady thump of a bass beat in the background, overlaying the sound of the chatter of people. “Don’t make me come get you,” he adds and then hangs up. Zayn stares at the mobile in his hand. 

This is stupid. Everyone is out having fun and he’s sitting here moping. 

“Fuck it,” he mutters and goes to change. 

Niall wasn’t specific on the cabin, but Zayn can hear the music as soon as he steps out onto their porch.   
When he’s made his way through the mess of people spilling in and out of the cabin a couple doors down, Zayn finds Niall and Harry down to their pants in the hot tub on the back porch. Someone puts a can of beer in Zayn's hand and he takes a drink automatically, lifting it to salute when Niall shouts for him. 

This he can do. 

 

A couple hours later Zayn's pissed and wet from the hot tub. 

“Where are my trousers?” he mutters, looking around. Behind him, he can hear Niall cackle. He turns just in time to catch a flash of blond hair disappear into the throng of people still inside the cabin. 

“Pretty sure, Nialler just stole ‘em,” Harry laughs beside him. “And mine too, for that matter.” 

He doesn’t look nearly as disgruntled as Zayn feels about the situation. “Twat,” Zayn mutters. He rubs his hands over his arms; the cold is beginning to cut through his alcohol haze. 

“He left our shoes at least,” Harry points out kindly. He puts his hand on Zayn’s shoulders, nearly knocking their heads together when he leans forward and adds, “I think we’re going to have to make a run for it, Zayn, old boy.”

Zayn’s, “You’re so weird, Haz,” just makes Harry grin. He pokes Zayn’s cheek and then tosses him his shoes. 

They sprint down the road to their cabin, Harry’s arm around him trying to keep them upright. It’s more hindrance than help though and by the time they stumble through the door, they’re both breathless from laughter and cold. 

Zayn works on getting the fire going while Harry goes to grab towels. He comes back with pants as well, flinging a pair at Zayn’s head. They fumble into clean, dry underwear, Zayn laughing at Harry’s giggles, and setting each other off every time they make eye contact. Dry and clothed, they sprawl out in front of the fireplace, soaking up the heat. Their bare arms brush and Niall's words are floating through Zayn’s head again. 

"You're well fit, Haz," slips out before he can stop it and Harry preens just a little, which makes Zayn laugh. "Prat," he says, shoving at his shoulder. He's still a little tipsy, but his head’s clearer than before. Harry's skin under his palm is smooth, warm from more than just the fire. Harry raises an eyebrow when Zayn finally looks up at him. 

"S'like that, is it?" Harry asks in that slow way of his. This time the words are lower, the natural rasp of his voice a bit harsher. 

It makes Zayn swallow hard. It makes other parts of his body react as well and that's a bit surprising. So it’s not just Louis, then. Or maybe it's just the alcohol in his blood; Zayn's not sure. 

Harry hums, murmurs, "Let's see what you've got then," before leaning over and kissing him. His lips are chapped from the cold air, but they're warm, wet against Zayn's. 

Kissing is one of Zayn's favorite things. He likes the press and slide, learning what works and what doesn't. Fingers curl around his neck and they're not soft, not like Zayn's used to, and that's a little strange. Harry's tongue is distracting, though, so it’s easy to quit thinking about it. 

He's halfway to hard when Harry moves, pressing him back to the floor without breaking their kiss, until they're both horizontal. Instinctively, Zayn reaches out. There's a pleased noise from Harry as Zayn's hands land on his hips. This skin _is_ smooth under his hands and he presses his fingertips in. Harry makes another pleased sound, hips twitching. He can feel Harry, hard against his thigh, and it's not as disconcerting as he thought it would be. 

In fact, it's a little heady, the way Harry reacts. Zayn digs his fingers into the muscles low in Harry's back and earns the sharp bite of teeth in his bottom lip. He does it again, and Harry kisses him harder, shifting until their cocks slide together through their pants. It feels _fantastic_.

Through the haze of pleasure that's whirling around like white noise in his brain, he recognizes the sound of the cabin door opening. A rush of cold air hits a second later, and Harry shivers, curling around him. Tilting his head back, he can see Louis and Liam standing there. Liam's eyebrows are high and his face is already a brilliant shade of red. Louis's face is–

Nothing. There's no expression on Louis’s face, not until Harry lifts his head from where his lips were attached to Zayn's neck and says roughly, "Close the door, you wankers. It's freezing." 

Liam just stands there. Zayn can feel Harry's grin more than he can see it and somehow Liam manages to go even more red. Louis though, Louis turns abruptly and walks back out of the cabin, closing the door behind him. That seems to shake Liam loose and he flails, "What are–Zayn, aren't you–?" He frowns. "Nobody told me you were–" He hesitates and Zayn can feel Harry tense above him. 

Harry's voice is deceptively calm when he offers, "Gay?" Zayn almost feels a bit sorry for Liam; he's got no idea really. "It's just a bit of boys touching each other," Harry says, rolling to the side. Zayn scowls as this blocks the heat from the fireplace. "You have an issue with that?"

This makes Liam splutter even more. "What? No! No, of course not. There's nothing wrong with–with–" He changes tack, "But I saw you snogging Cara last week--" 

Harry gets up and Zayn can hear Liam's strangled yelp. Harry's still hard, obviously so. It's kind of strange from this angle, Zayn notes abstractly, especially through pants. 

He's still trying to figure out what the non-look on Louis's face meant. And why he'd left. It'd probably be weird to see your best mates having a go, maybe that's why. He imagines Louis making out with Harry and a surge of anger goes through him. Alright, so maybe he's not the best judge about that then, not with the being in love with Louis and all. All of this is making his head hurt. That, and his buzz is definitely wearing off and he can feel a headache building at the base of skull. 

"Quit being so annoying, Harry Edward Styles!" 

The half-shout snaps Zayn out of his head. Glancing back again, he can see nothing but limbs, Harry's naked ones, Liam's clothed ones. Liam's got a hand over Harry's face, pushing him away. His face is red again. Still, probably. Harry's laughter echoes through the room, and Zayn sighs. 

Rolling over, he stands up. Time for some trousers then. 

 

Two hours later, Louis still hasn't come back. Zayn wouldn't worry so much, but almost immediately after he'd left, the snow had started falling again. Niall had stumbled back in from across the road an hour after that, covered head to toe in snow with a breathless, "It's really coming down!"

Zayn looks out the window, but there's nothing but darkness and swirling snow caught in the light from the front door. The others are getting a little restless; he can feel it behind him. He can hear Liam's low voice floating in from the other room. The main lodge hasn't heard anything either, it seems.

"They haven't heard anything,' Liam confirms as he comes back into the living room, "and they aren't able to send anyone out right now, not until the storm dies down a bit." He's trying to hide it, but Zayn can hear the worry in his voice, and it makes Zayn’s stomach twist even harder. 

(If he wasn't so worried about Louis, he'd think about the way Liam has chosen to sit down on the floor next to Niall's chair instead of on the sofa, next to Harry, and won’t look at him. As it is, Zayn _is_ stupidly worried about Louis and ignores the look that Harry sends Liam's way.) 

"Right then," Zayn mutters, turning around. "If they won't go out, I will."

That gets everyone's attention.

"You can't go out there!" Liam immediately protests. Niall adds a comment about not being stupid and Harry just looks at Zayn like he's grown another head. Zayn ignores them all, pulling his jacket from the hanger and slipping it on. He's patting the pockets from his gloves when a hand lands on his shoulder. 

"You're not going out there," Harry says. He's giving Zayn a really hard look, and Zayn can't hold it, glancing down. His gloves and beanie are shoved into the left pocket. He pulls them out, shoving the beanie on his head and dislodging Harry's hand. It's back a second later, the grip more firm this time. 

Niall pipes up from his chair. "Don't be daft, Zayn. You can't see even see your hand in front of your face out there right now." Liam's already pushing up from the floor, nodding. Zayn ignores them all, wrapping his scarf around his throat. The hand on his arm tightens as he turns toward the door. 

"Zayn–" He tries to shake it off, but Harry's persistent when he wants to be. 

"I'm not letting you go out there," he adds, and Zayn snarls at him. 

"No, no, he's right," Liam adds. He's standing next to Harry now, frowning. Zayn shrugs off the hand Liam puts on his shoulder, ignores the hurt that flashes in Liam's eyes. He's not going to be persuaded by Liam's puppy dog eyes, dammit. It's _Louis_ out there. 

He moves around the two of them, but Harry's a sly bastard and hooks a foot around Zayn's ankle. Of course, Harry is also the most awkward-limbed person ever and the move sends both of them to the floor. Zayn loses his breath on the impact, Harry's elbow in his stomach. Unfortunately, it gives Harry enough time to scramble off him and then sit on his chest. 

"What the fuck, Harry?" Zayn manages to finally gasp out. Harry ignores him.

“Sit on his legs, Liam,” he orders and after a moment's hesitation, Liam does. Zayn starts cursing at them, but Harry just looks decidedly unimpressed.

"You are _not_ going out there," he firmly states. "And if it requires sitting on your sorry arse, that's what's we're going to do." From this angle, Zayn can't see Niall, but he hears his snort clearly. He's about to call them some very choice names when the cabin door flies open and Louis stumbles through it. 

He shakes snow off his head and shoulders, grinning. "It's a right mess out there, boys!" He glances down, one eyebrow going up. "Why are you all sitting on Zayn?"

The pressure Zayn's chest eases instantly as Harry flies up to tackle Louis. Liam, at least, offers Zayn a hand up when he stands. He mouths _sorry_ before turning to wrap Louis up in a hug. Louis protests, but Zayn can see he's pleased at the attention. It makes Zayn a little angry. 

"Where've you been, you arse?" Niall asks. He's finally gotten up from his chair and to get his own hug. "We were getting worried." 

"Getting?" Harry says, glancing over at Zayn. "Zayn here was about to go risk life and limb to look for you."

"Don't be silly," Louis laughs. He's not looking at Zayn. "Just a bit of snow, that's all." Everyone but Zayn laughs.

"Fuck you," he says quietly. And _that_ gets Louis's attention. " _Fuck you_ ," Zayn tells him again and walks out of the room before Louis can respond.

"He was really worried," he hears Liam say before he gets the door to his room closed. He knows Louis, knows he's going to come try and talk his way out of Zayn's anger, so he locks the door. It'll probably piss Louis off, but right now Zayn isn’t particularly bothered about Louis's feelings. He strips down to his pants, slides underneath the covers of his bed and tries to sleep. 

There’s a soft knock at the door a while later. Zayn ignores it, ignores the jiggle of the door handle and the quiet sound of his name on the other side. There are fading footsteps after a second, and Zayn doesn't move. He doesn't sleep much either.

 

Zayn opens his eyes to the beams of gray light trickling through his windows. He staggers to the toilet and then to the living room, rubbing his arms for warmth. After building the fire back up, he huddles under a blanket on the couch. It's so still, the crackle of the fire the only thing breaking the silence of the cabin, and Zayn, comfortable in the peace of it, finds himself dozing off after a while.

Of course, that means Louis stumbles into the room a moment later, sleep-rumpled and warm-looking. There’s a pillow crease fading from his cheek and Zayn almost asks if he’d bunked with Liam last night. Not that Zayn had given him much choice, really, so he just fists his hand into the blanket and doesn’t say anything.

"Hey,” Louis finally murmurs. He tugs the front of his t-shirt down, fingers messing with the hem. It’s a nervous gesture, one that Zayn’s seen a million times before: just never directed toward him. 

With a sigh, Zayn lifts up a corner of the blanket. It earns him a brilliant smile and a pair of cold toes against his ankles. Louis wraps an arm around his waist and tucks his nose into the hollow of Zayn's neck. It's even colder than his toes.

Jerking back, Zayn mutters, "Christ, Lou."

"Shhhh," Louis responds. "Getting warm now." Zayn just sighs. It’s warm, and quiet, and it’s not long before he’s drifting off into a doze again.

He's lost track of the time, what with the line of warmth at his side and the soft breath against his neck, when Louis murmurs, "I'm sorry."

"Hmm?" 

Louis pokes a finger into Zayn's ribs, but not as hard as he usually does. "I'm sorry," he repeats, "that I made you worry." Zayn shrugs and Louis huffs. "Really–"

"It's fine," Zayn cuts him off, voice sharp. He doesn't really want to talk about it. He can feel Louis about to protest and he repeats, "It's _fine_ , Louis." His voice is quieter this time. "You're back and you're safe, so don’t worry about it." Louis sighs.

They sit in silence again, but it's different now. Tense. He's about to get up and mess with the fire – it's low, a good excuse – when Louis speaks again.

"Snogging Haz then, yeah?"

And god, Zayn does _not_ want to talk about this. 

He tries to play it off, snorting, "You know he'll kiss anyone, Lou, and you were busy." Louis shifts at his side and Zayn realizes how that sounded. "With Liam," he stutters out. "Skiing. Not snogging." God, he hopes they weren't snogging. Then he remembers the look on Liam's face last night and shakes his head. Of course they weren't snogging. 

He can feel Louis frowning at him, and Zayn shuts his brain off. It's best to let Louis lead this conversation; Zayn's head is a mess. 

Only maybe it's not a great idea because Louis finally asks, "So that wasn't your first time kissing a boy then?' His voice sounds a little funny when he adds, "Because I'm fairly certain I would have remembered that if you'd told me." Louis shrugs. "I mean, I told you about Stan–" He sounds a little hurt and something else that Zayn can't determine. 

This whole thing is so stupid, Zayn thinks. Feelings are _so stupid_.

"That's the first time I'd snogged a boy, Louis. I just–I wanted to know if I'd like it, okay? And Hazza's easy, you know? It wouldn't be awkward after." He can see Louis scowl from the corner of his eye.

"Why would you need to know if you liked it?" Next to Zayn, Louis's body goes stiff. It only lasts a second, but Zayn can feel the tension thrum through Louis. And then it's gone, Louis twisting to face him. When Zayn looks, he's got that persona on, the crazy one that Zayn _knows_ he uses to cover up when he's not sure of himself. 

"Do you like someone, Zayn Malik? Do you like a _boyyyy_ and haven't even told me?" Zayn runs a hand over his face and Louis's fingers curl around his wrist, pulling it down. "I think this is even worse, you know. I should be the first to know these things–" Zayn watches Louis's face, the tension around his eyes, and thinks this is ridiculous. "I should be the first to know things like this! I mean, these are important steps in best friendship–"

Zayn cuts him off with a quick press of his lips to Louis's.

"Oh."

His face is turning red, Zayn can feel it. It doesn't get any better when Louis just stares blankly at him for so long that Zayn starts squirming a little, nervous. "Louis–"

"I got lost," Louis blurts out. Zayn frowns and shakes his head, confused. "When I took off after I walked in on–" He waves a hand, vaguely towards the fireplace, "–I left and just started walking. And then it started snowing. Which, you know, wasn't that bad in the beginning so I just kept going. And then it got worse and I realized I had no idea where I was. So I turned around and followed my footprints back as far as I could," Louis's words are nearly tumbling over themselves, he's talking so quickly. "But then they were gone and I could barely see and I was kind of really, really freaking out. I saw some lights and thought, _oh shit, what if it's nothing?_ but it turned out to be the cabin, thank god." 

He stops there and Zayn waits. 

And waits. 

"What was the point of that?!" he finally asks. His voice might be a little hysterical. He’s known Louis for _ages_ and still so often, Zayn’s got no idea what’s going on inside his head. 

Louis shrugs. "I was just scared I wasn't going to see you again, is all," and Zayn deflates. 

"You're a wanker," he tells Louis. "And an idiot." Louis looks a little affronted, but behind that, Zayn can see he’s a little hurt too. 

Zayn ducks his chin, running a hand over his face. When he looks back up, it’s to find Louis watching him, frowning. 

“You’re an idiot,” Zayn repeats. And Louis may be frowning at Zayn, but he’s _close_ and _warm_ and Zayn’s kind of tired of hiding how he feels. “But the thing is, you’re _my_ idiot,” he adds quietly. "And I'm a little bit in love with you. Have been for ages, I think, so you should know that just in case you decide to be stupid and run off again." 

Louis is quiet for a little while and Zayn wiggles around, worried. Finally Louis sighs and pushes Zayn onto his back, crawling over him. This is normal for them, the manhandling, except for this time Zayn's body is thinking _sexy manhandling_. It's okay though because Louis puts his chin on Zayn's chest, digging in hard, and says, "I hated seeing you with Harry, just so you know. And I'm fairly sure that it was in more than a 'hey, that's my mate' kind of way."

"Your chin is really sharp, Lou." Zayn says, ignoring the way his pulse skips at the words. Louis huffs indignantly. 

"I'm spilling my soul, arse, quit wanking on about my chin." He digs it in again and Zayn winces. He pushes at Louis's forehead which makes Louis bite at his fingers in retaliation. Zayn squawks, flailing when Louis actually gets his teeth dug in to one knuckle. Unfortunately, it means their precarious position on the narrow couch is compromised.

Louis groans when they hit the floor, Zayn on top. He starts to roll off to the side when he feels Louis hard against his thigh. Zayn stills, meeting Louis's eyes. He's flushed and biting his lip. "Louis–"

"You should kiss me again." 

Zayn hesitates for a moment and Louis squirms underneath him. He leans down, dropping another little kiss against Louis’s lips. Louis rolls his eyes. "You can do better than that, Zayn. I've seen you with Rebecca, yeah? And Perrie. And–" 

He doesn’t need the list, as it happens. He just wants to kiss Louis. Zayn goes in right proper this time, curling a hand around Louis's neck and kissing him with everything he has. Louis's body goes instantly loose beneath him, his mouth opening at the first touch of Zayn's tongue. It's good. 

Really, _really_ good. 

 

(They kiss and kiss and kiss until they're both out of breath. Well, until Harry wanders out of his room, sees them, and shouts, "Aha! I knew it!" They ignore him and keep kissing until he yells, "King of the mountain!" and jumps on top of them. They stop kissing then, but only for long enough to tickle Harry until he nearly wees himself.

They go back to snogging after that.)

**Author's Note:**

> originally written for the 3point5seats holiday fic exchange on livejournal


End file.
